Vendetta: The Missing Scene
by Bamfwriter
Summary: What might have happened in the sewers, instead of what was in the episode. Spoilers for Vendetta.
1. Chapter 1

"You stay in the car!"

Blair jumped a little as Simon barked the order at him. Reluctantly, he stayed where he was, leaning against the open door of Simon's car. He watched with wide eyes as the big Captain moved to join his men, who were in the process of taking the band of jewel thieves into custody. The anthropologist breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Jim standing, unhurt.

Freeman was watching the melee from his hiding place between the pillars in front of the hotel. He glowered as he saw that his plan had failed; Ellison still lived.

Cursing, Freeman turned to stalk away, intending to go home and begin plotting new and inventive dilemmas for the detective. He stopped short as a figure standing beside one of the cars caught his eye.

Freeman squinted. The kid looked familiar. Where had he seen him before? Short, slight, long dark curly hair... OF COURSE! The wanna-be hippie, Ellison's co-pilot. He hadn't recognized him with his hair pulled back.

Freeman looked from the kid to Ellison, who was busy Miranda-izing what's-her-name. A slow, evil grin crossed his ragged face as the most wonderful idea formed inside his complex brain.

Blair was bouncing a little with nervousness and impatience. He wanted so much to join Jim, to confirm that the Sentinel was all right. But Simon's order had been strict, and Blair didn't dare disobey it. The Captain would probably have a go at various parts of his anatomy with his cigar clippers if he didn't do as he was told.

"Hello, shrimp."

Blair straightened at the unpleasantly familiar voice behind him. Before he could turn, a hand gripped his shoulder, and he felt the unmistakable pressure of a gun digging into his back. Slowly, Blair raised his hands to shoulder level, not wanting to startle Freeman.

"What do you want, Freeman?" Blair asked, trying to keep his voice steady. He looked toward Jim again, trying to will the big man to look his way.

"I want revenge, flower-child," the hacker snickered into Blair's ear. "You see, I only just now realized that I've been going about this all wrong." Freeman roughly seized Blair's arm and pulled him along as he headed away from the crime scene. He dug the gun into Blair's ribs, standing close enough to the kid to hide the weapon from the few by-standers.

"I've been going after Ellison," the hacker continued as he dragged Blair along with him. "But the one I should have been after was you!" Freeman glanced back over his shoulder to make sure he hadn't been seen.

Blair looked at the creep with genuine confusion on his face. "Me? Why? What have I done?"

Freeman sneered. "You've befriended my enemy," he said. "Haven't you heard the old phrase, 'the friend of my enemy is my enemy?'"

Blair's heart began to pound, and he turned to look anxiously back at the crime scene, praying that someone would see his peril. No such luck, everyone was still focused on the jewel thieves.

"You see," Freeman was babbling, "I can kill Ellison, sure. But that's just a short, one-time thing, a moment or two of enjoyment and then it's over." He smiled as he spotted the sewer access conduit in the midst of a small group of trees.

"But," he continued as he pulled Blair up the little hill and through the trees, "By killing you, I'll be able to savor Ellison's pain for a much longer time." He motioned for Blair to lift the heavy lid off the conduit.

Eyeing the gun nervously, Blair obeyed, straining. Veins stood out on his brow as he hefted the disc of concrete.

"The look on Ellison's face when he finds your body will be a sweet reward." Freeman leaned against the edge of the conduit, smiling wistfully as he held the gun on Blair. "Plus, I'll have the added satisfaction of knowing that he'll suffer for years to come, mourning the loss of his beloved little wanna-be hippie. And all because he refused to show me common courtesy on the road!"

Blair thought as he held the concrete lid, glancing stealthily at his surroundings. Making a decision, he muttered a curse and pretended to accidentally drop the heavy piece of concrete. It landed with a loud thud on the hard dirt, then rolled on its edge down the small hill.

Freeman watched in horror as the disc rolled happily down the hill, and smashed into the side of an expensive-looking car in the parking lot. Immediately the air was filled with the shriek of the car's burglar alarm, and the hacker froze as everyone within earshot looked his way.

Jim was just handing the last of the cuffed criminals to Ryf when his ears were assaulted by a harsh, high pitched wail. He flinched, hands flying to cover his ears as he scanned for the source of the sound.

Damned car alarms, Jim thought as his eyes settled upon the guilty vehicle. He was about to turn away, when motion beyond the car caught his eye. He zoomed in on the figures moving in the shadows of the trees, and his heart slammed into his throat.

"JIM!" Blair yelled as he saw his friend's eyes settle on him. He tried to bolt, but Freeman was too quick.

"OHH no!" the hacker snarled, wrapping his arm around Blair's waist from behind and yanking him back toward the sewer.

"JIM, HELP!" Blair bellowed, struggling against the hacker's arm around his waist.

"Simon!" Jim barked, charging toward his Guide.

Simon glanced around and saw his detective running like hell for the tiny stand of trees at the far end of the parking lot.

"Jim! What are you doing?" The Captain bellowed, giving chase.

"Freeman's got Sandburg!" Ellison yelled back over his shoulder.

"Oh Christ!" Simon groaned. Pausing, he turned back to the other officers, who were watching him in confusion.

"Seal off the area!" Simon shouted through cupped hands. "We have a hostage situation!"

"Get in there!" Freeman bellowed at the kid, gesturing into the conduit with his gun. When Blair hesitated, Freeman drew back and clipped the young man sharply across the temple with the gun.

"Ungh!" Blair recoiled and slumped over the concrete pipe. He was only barely conscious as Freeman climbed past him into the conduit, then grabbed his wrists.

Jim put on a burst of speed as he saw Freeman drape Blair over his shoulder and disappear down the pipe. A few moments later, the Sentinel charged up the hill and skidded to a halt beside the conduit. He paused just long enough to confirm that Freeman wasn't hiding just inside to ambush him. Then he gave a quick glance back toward Simon before swinging his legs over and starting down the ladder.

Blair's head hurt. He slowly opened his eyes, feeling a warm trickle running from his temple to his scalp. He saw a wet, dark floor, and the back of a pair of legs. He also saw his own hands at the end of limp arms, which swung with every step of the legs.

Blair tried to raise his aching head, realizing he was being carried over someone's bony shoulder. The memory of the last few minutes came back to him in a rush, and he immediately began to struggle and kick. He yelped as he was dumped ungracefully onto the wet floor.

"Get up," Freeman ordered, pointing the gun at Blair. The young man didn't move. Freeman stalked closer, aiming the gun between the kid's eyes.

Blair stayed where he was, gazing defiantly up at the psycho with loathing. The standoff went on for immeasurable minutes, neither man moving.

Freeman moved first. Never letting the gun waver, he kept his eyes locked with Blair's as he reached for his belt.

"All right, then," the hacker growled, roughly unbuckling his belt. "You want to do it the hard way? Fine."

Blair's eyes went wide with horror, and he scrambled backwards. No! He wouldn't! He couldn't be planning to...

"Hey," the hacker snapped, raising the gun a little, "Just stay right there." With a yank, Freeman stripped off his belt, draped it over his shoulder, and reached for Blair.

Blair raised an arm to protect himself, wincing as Freeman lunged for him. The larger man grabbed his wrist and hauled him to his feet. Confused, Blair just watched as the hacker used his belt to bind his wrists in front of him.

"There," the psycho muttered as he buckled the belt, securing his captive's hands. "Now, move."

Blair stumbled as the hacker gave him a shove, directing him deeper into the catacombs of the Cascade sewer system.

Jim stopped again, bending over and resting his hands on his knees, trying again to dial down his sense of smell. After a few seconds, it worked, and he started along again. Now if only he could dial down his fear.

He was doing everything he could to remain calm and rational as he pursued his targets, but inside he was shaking. His greatest fear since getting into this whole mess with Freeman had come true; the bastard had seen a way to hurt him through Blair.

When Blair had yelped in alarm as Freeman pounded against his side of the truck, Jim had been filled with rage. Blair was a gentle, sweet, wonderful young man, without a hostile bone in his body. When Freeman had frightened him, Jim had seen red. Nobody, but NOBODY frightened his Guide. If only he'd arrested the bastard when he'd had the chance...

A short cry of pain from somewhere up ahead interrupted Jim's hindsight, and he put on a burst of speed.

I'm coming for you, buddy. Just hang on!

Freeman glanced back over his shoulder as he heard footsteps. Ellison was catching up. The hacker cursed; he'd been certain he'd be able to lose the detective in the maze of pipes and conduits.

He looked back toward the bend they'd just come around, and saw the flicker of a shadow on the wall. The cop was getting closer. Panicking, Freeman turned and searched the dark tunnel for a place to hide. He spotted a short outlet tunnel behind him, and an idea developed.

Dragging his hostage roughly by the hair, Freeman backed into the little alcove, raising the gun toward the approaching shadow.

He would take out Ellison with a leg shot the second he appeared around the corner, just enough to immobilize him. Then he would kill Blair as the detective watched. He only had one bullet, and it was reserved for the cop, so the little hippie would have to go a different way.

Freeman glanced down, trying to judge if the water on the floor was deep enough to drown someone in. Possibly. Or he could always just choke him to death with his bare hands; the kid was small, he wouldn't put up much of a fight.

The psycho grinned as he ducked farther into his hiding place, one hand moving to cover his captive's mouth, the other keeping the gun raised. He closed his eyes and listened to the approaching footsteps.

Jim paused, scanning the bend in the tunnel with his hearing. Up until this point, he'd been able to hear the shuffling, slapping sounds of feet on the damp floor. He'd used the sounds as a beacon to follow. Now there was silence.

Or was there? Jim closed his eyes, and turned his hearing up to its full capacity, listening for any clue as to where Freeman had vanished with his partner. He paused as a familiar sound reached his ears over the sound of the dripping water.

A heartbeat. Blair's heartbeat.

Jim focused on the sound and followed it like a moth to a flame. Soon he was able to pick up two separate beats; Blair's and another. He could hear breathing, and what sounded like grunting. It was Blair's voice, he realized, being muffled. Jim's jaw clenched in anger as he inched slowly forward, nearing the bend.

Freeman tensed as the shadow grew larger. He tightened his hold over Blair's mouth as the young man tried to cry out to his partner.

Blair's eyes widened as he saw Jim coming closer. Soon, the Sentinel would be in range, and he'd have no clue where the bullet that ended his life had come from.

Blair struggled desperately against Freeman, twisting his neck, trying to shout a warning to Jim. He was rewarded by another smack upside the head with the butt of the psycho's gun. Stunned, the anthropologist went limp against his kidnapper.

Freeman's breath began to come faster as he aimed the gun at Ellison's shadow once more. He could see the ripples in the water in the detective's path, now, he was so close. Smiling, he squeezed the trigger as the detective came hesitantly into view.

Just then Blair sharply jerked his head back, connecting with Freeman's chin. Freeman's surprise, plus the extra space allowed him to sink his teeth into the hand covering his mouth.

"OW!" Freeman yelped as Blair bit him.

"JIM, LOOK OUT!" Blair bellowed.

The cry echoed painfully in the small area, and Jim held his ears as he dove and rolled. He heard a bullet whiz past, actually passing between his thighs, missing by millimeters. As he rolled to his feet, Jim had his own gun drawn, and was pointing it at the alcove.

Freeman cursed as he waved his throbbing hand, keeping his arm locked around his struggling captive's throat. He tossed his empty gun away, angry at himself for only carrying the one bullet.

"Come out with your hands up!" Jim roared. He waited. The Sentinel tensed as Freeman came slowly into view, one arm locked around Blair's neck, the other coiled tightly around his waist.

"Take your hands off him, Freeman," Jim said softly, eyes on Blair's face. He glowered at the sight of the dark bruises marring the anthropologist's cheek, and the trickle of blood from his temple.

"I said, take your hands OFF HIM," Jim ordered again, moving closer. "NOW!"

"Uh, uh, uhhh, detective," Freeman sang, moving his arm from Blair's throat to snarl his fingers in the young man's curls. "I think maybe YOU should drop your gun." He turned his head to speak into Blair's ear, loud enough for the cop to hear him.

"Don't you agree? Don't you want Jim to drop his gun, Blair?" When Blair didn't answer, Freeman braced his other hand against the back of Blair's neck and sharply yanked his head back.

Jim winced as Blair cried out in pain, raising his bound wrists in a futile attempt to free himself.

"Come on, Blair, say it! Tell Jim to drop his gun. Tell him Blair!" Freeman punctuated each phrase with a wrench to Blair's neck.

"Go to... hell," Blair gasped weakly, eyes tearing from the strain on his neck.

"Hey Ellison, have you ever wondered what sort of sound a human neck makes as it snaps?" Freeman asked brightly. "Wanna find out?" The psycho was laughing as he continued to pull down on Blair's hair.

Blair was having trouble breathing, his neck was bent back so far. He was quite flexible, but there was a limit to what even the most limber of bodies could endure. He winced as he felt the bones of his neck beginning to grind together.

"Jim...," Blair gasped anxiously, fighting for air.

"All right!" Jim shouted, holding his gun away from Freeman. "All right, you win." He knelt and laid the gun on the cold, wet floor and kicked it into a nearby drain, then slowly stood up. His eyes never left his partner as he waited for Freeman's next move.

Freeman just laughed. He released Blair's hair, and replaced the arm around his neck, holding the kid up as he wavered.

"Good move, Jim!" Freeman said brightly, backing through the alcove behind him, Blair in tow. "That's the smartest thing I've seen you do!" The hacker continued to laugh as he backed through the short tunnel, sneering as Jim slowly followed, hands raised.

"All right," Jim said evenly, "It's over Freeman. I'm unarmed, and there's nothing I can do to stop you." Jim folded his arms. "Let him go."

Freeman pretended to think about it, pursing his lips and glancing at the ceiling. Then he looked around, examining his surroundings. He grinned when he saw they were on some kind of platform. He leaned to look down, and saw water rushing by far, far below.

You just don't get it, do you cop?" Freeman sneered. "I don't want to escape. I want to kill him." The hacker tightened his arm around Blair's throat again.

"Why?" Jim asked desperately. "What will killing an innocent man do for you, other than make you a murderer?" Jim swallowed hard as he began to realize exactly how dangerous Blair's situation really was. Freeman was apathetic, totally without mercy or care for another person's life.

"Because!" Freeman was replying, "I want to see your face when you watch him die. I want you to see the life drain from his eyes as the last breath leaves his body." Freeman stopped his backward trek from Jim to check his surroundings.

"You see," the psycho continued, "Even if I do go to jail, the memory of seeing you watch your friend die will give me satisfaction for the rest of my life." Freeman threw his head back and chortled maniacally at the ceiling.

Jim started forward, hoping Freeman was too distracted with his own speech to notice. But as he took two steps, the hacker's eyes locked with his again. Jim froze.

Freeman glanced over the edge of the platform once more. Bracing himself by counterbalancing his own weight, he held Blair by his shirtfront, and swung the young man around to lean over the abyss.

"Still want me to let him go?" Freeman cackled.

Blair closed his eyes as he was dangled from the edge of the platform. He could hear water below him, and knew that even if he survived the fall, with his hands tied, he would drown. He cast a helpless glance at Jim, hoping that the Sentinel had a plan.

Jim was weighing his options. He knew there was no way he could get Freeman while Blair was in such a predicament. The Sentinel was fast, but he wasn't faster than gravity. He knew that the second he made a move, Freeman would let go and Blair would be gone.

He was about to speak to Freeman again when movement below caught his eye. He glanced down, and his heart swelled with hope as he saw Simon and Ryf sneaking along beside the water on the level below them.

Banks stared up in horror at the scene above. Blair, hands tied, toes barely resting on the edge of the platform. He was being tilted out at an angle, his shirt grasped by Jim's hacker. Simon swore under his breath as he understood for the first time, exactly why Jim was so keen to put this character away.

Turning to Ryf, Simon held a finger to his lips as he moved closer. He saw Jim, and gave a quick thumbs-up, before taking aim with his gun.

"Jim," Simon said quietly, knowing that the Sentinel's ears would be trained on him. "Get ready to grab the kid. On three, ready?" Simon watched as Jim nodded slightly. The Captain aimed at Freeman's leg, and carefully squeezed the trigger. "One... two...,"

BANG!

Jim charged forward as the shot rang out.

Freeman doubled over with a scream, clutching his leg with his free hand. The bullet had only grazed him, but the pain distracted him, and he heard Ellison moving in. The hacker quickly recovered, and was about to let his hostage fall to his death, when the cop's shoulder knocked him to the floor.

Jim snagged his fingers in Blair's shirt just as Freeman let him go. Blair gave a short cry as he dropped, his feet slipping from their precarious perch on the edge. He swung at the end of Jim's long arm, and struck the wall below with a grunt.

"Freeze!" Simon shouted from below, drawing a bead on Freeman.

The hacker stared down at the Captain, thinking. Quickly, he ducked behind the kneeling figure of Ellison, knowing the other cops wouldn't be able to get a clear shot at him.

Jim felt the hacker behind him, but there was nothing he could do. He had both hands knotted in the fabric of Blair's shirt now, trying to keep his friend from falling. He could hear the squeaking of Blair's wet sneakers from below as the kid tried to scramble up the wall.

"Hang on, kid," Jim said softly, meeting Blair's frightened eyes. "Just hang on, I've got you!"

Suddenly, Freeman wrapped his arm around Ellison's throat from behind, cutting off the detective's air. He kept pressure on the big man's windpipe, watching the eyes of the young man who dangled helplessly in his grip.

The lack of air would soon make his enemy weaken, Freeman reasoned. Then, Ellison would only be able to watch helplessly as his grip on his friend's shirt gave way. He would have a clear view of the wanna-be hippie's plummet, and know that it was his own weakness that caused it. Freeman was smiling as he continued to keep pressure on Ellison's throat.

Blair was watching everything from his vantage point below. He reached up with bound hands, hitting Jim's arms as he called out to him.

"Jim!" Blair shouted. "Jim, let go! Let go man! You gotta let go, or he'll kill you!" Blair's voice was hoarse with emotion. He could see Jim's eyes starting to glaze over, teeth grinding in determination to hold onto him. "Jim please!"

"Shit!" Ryf barked, trying again to sight Freeman. It was no good. He was a great shot, but this was just too close. "I'm sorry, Captain, I can't do it!" Ryf looked apologetically at Banks.

Simon was on his cell phone, trying to relay their coordinates to the rest of the squad, who were now scattered throughout the sewer system in search of Blair. Several of the officers were on the same level as Jim, and close. But not close enough.

Blair was still trying to get Jim to drop him, when he felt a touch to his wrists. He looked to see that one of Jim's hands had left its grip on Blair's shirt to grab the buckle of Freeman's belt. Blair watched the deft fingers quickly work the buckle loose, freeing his hands.

Blair's eyes snapped to Jim's face, and he saw the big man nod, eyes beginning to roll back from the loss of oxygen. Quickly, Blair reached up and grabbed Jim's left arm with both hands. He climbed up the arm like it was a rope, and reached up for Freeman.

Jim reached back with his now-free right arm, and grabbed Freeman's hair. He saw Blair's hand snag the hacker's sleeve. With strength born of determination and a need to survive, Jim heaved forward, yanking Freeman over his shoulder.

Blair pulled with all his strength, anger giving him the adrenaline rush he needed to get Freeman off-balance. He closed his eyes as the hacker screamed, feeling the rush of air as the man fell past him.

Simon followed Freeman down with his gun. The psycho vanished into the murky, churning water. Banks trained his weapon on the water, watching, waiting for Freeman to surface. He waited a long time, then gave up and quickly moved to follow Ryf, who was heading for the juncture that would take them to Jim's level.

Blair gave a sigh of relief as Freeman's death-scream was cut off. Slowly, he looked up to see Jim rubbing his throat, grimacing.

"You OK?" Blair called up, still swinging from Jim's other arm.

The Sentinel coughed, worked his jaw, and smiled down at his Guide. "Yeah, I'm fine." He got to his feet and pulled with all his might, easily hauling Blair up, and onto the ledge beside him.

Blair stood unsteadily, then leaned into Jim as the big man wrapped his arms around him and guided him away from the edge. The day's events began to take their toll, and Blair felt his legs giving out, the pain in his skull growing.

Jim pulled Blair back against the far wall, then quickly seized him under the arms as he sagged. He followed his partner to the damp floor and cradled him, waiting for the other officers to arrive.

When Simon and Ryf reached Jim, they found him sitting on the floor with Blair half in his lap. Jim had his arms wrapped tight around the young man, his head resting on top of Blair's, rocking ever so slightly. Blair was hugging Jim back, snuggled tightly into the detective's chest, hands twined in the fabric of his overalls.

Simon slowly approached, studying the quiet pair on the floor before him. He met Jim's eyes, and cocked his head questioningly at Blair, who hadn't noticed the Captain.

"He's OK," Jim mouthed, snuggling the side of his head against Blair's hair, smiling a little as the young man responded by nestling closer, reaching up to wrap his arms around the detective's shoulders.

"Freeman?" Jim asked quietly, not wanting to disturb his drowsy Guide.

Simon shrugged. "No sign. He didn't come up, Jim, I'm sure of it."

Jim nodded gently, then glanced down at Blair. "Hey, Chief," he said softly. "Blair?"

"Mmmm?" Blair lifted his head drowsily, sleepy eyes settling on Jim's.

Jim smiled down at him. "Wanna go home?"

Blair took a deep breath, then nodded, trying to stand up.

Jim stood, and helped Blair up. Then he dove to grab the young man's arm as he wavered. A quick check showed that Blair's pupils were dilated, and his heart rate had slowed considerably.

"Chief?" Jim said sharply, gently shaking the young man by the shoulders. "Blair, can you hear me?"

"Mmm... head," Blair mumbled, legs turning to rubber. "Hurtsss...,"

"OK... OK..," Jim said gently. He looked over at Simon, who had strode forward when Blair swooned. Jim had his arm around Blair, his hand hooked under the anthropologist's right arm, supporting him.

"I think he may have a concussion Simon," Jim said as he draped Blair's right arm around his neck and carefully scooped him into his arms. "That bastard really whapped him a good one with the gun." He settled the young man's head on his shoulder, smiling slightly as his Guide's arms reached up blindly to wrap around his neck.

"Jim...," Simon said hesitantly, "I'm sorry I didn't take you more seriously before, when...,"

"That can wait for now, Sir. We need to get him to a hospital," Jim said as he turned and headed back the way they'd come. He lowered his face to whisper against Blair's temple.

"Stay awake for me, buddy, you hear?" There was a feeble nod in reply, and Jim smiled. He heard his Captain give Ryf instructions to fan out and search for Freeman. Then the Captain's footsteps fell in step behind Jim as he carried Blair through the catacombs, back up toward the daylight. 


	2. Chapter 2

Blair awoke slowly, and winced as light pierced his eyes, driving little bolts of pain through his frontal lobe. He tried to bring a hand up to block the light, and found his arm to seemingly be made of cement. He gave up trying to move and just lay still, eyes looking around, studying the ceiling.

He was in a hospital, he could tell that much by the beeping machines, the smells, and the fact that Jim was sound asleep in a chair at his bedside, snoring. Blair smiled at the sight. Everything was back to normal.

"Jim," he whispered. "Psst! Hey Jim!"

"Hunh? Wha..., The sharp eyes flew open and settled on Blair's. Jim gave a smile of relief and sat up, scooting his chair close so he could clasp Blair's small hand in his own. He rubbed his thumb absently across the back of the hand as he studied his Guide's face.

"How do you feel?" they asked each other simultaneously, then laughed. Jim motioned for Blair to go first, blue eyes shining.

"My head hurts like hell," Blair said, reaching his free hand to rub his temple. He smiled as Jim let go of his hand to massage his scalp with gentle fingers. "And I feel a little sick, but other than that, I'm fine." He snuggled down into the stiff hospital pillow as he eyed Jim's face. "How about you?"

Jim waved a hand. "Fine, fine," he said, a little too quickly. There was an uncomfortable silence then.

Blair just looked at his partner, as if trying to read his mind. After a long time he said, very softly, "Jim..., what happened to you?"

Jim's head shot up. "What? What do you mean?" Although he had a feeling he knew exactly where Blair was heading with this.

Blair sighed, and turned his gaze from Jim's to look out the window beside the bed. "It's just," he began quietly, then faltered. "Never mind," he added quickly, closing his eyes.

Jim leaned close and laid his hand on Blair's brow. The young man opened his eyes again, turning his head to gaze up at him.

"What's on your mind, kid?" Jim asked gently, brushing Blair's hair back with his thumb.

"Well," Blair said, obviously uncomfortable with what he had to say. "You just... you were... so... out of control... with Freeman." He cringed a little, as if expecting retribution from Jim.

The big man just sighed, continuing to weave his fingers through the dark curls, mindful of the bandages covering Blair's stitches. "I don't know Chief," he confessed, nearly inaudibly. "I can't tell you what was going on, because I don't understand it myself. It was just, like, I was so filled with hate for Freeman, that I let it get the best of me." He paused to look deeply into the young blue eyes of his Guide before adding in a remorseful whisper, "I'm so sorry you had to be dragged into it, buddy."

Blair just grinned a little, rolling his eyes. "Hey, now don't start apologizing every time I get in trouble, man," he said kindly, reaching up to gently punch Jim's shoulder. "If I really blamed you for all the stuff I've been through in the last three years, do you really think I'd still be following you into the fray every time?"

"Yes Chief," Jim replied quietly, "I do."

"Well, OK, you got me," the anthropologist giggled a little. "I would. But I wouldn't be happy about it!" he added petulantly, grinning.

The two friends shared a much-needed laugh together. Then Jim stood and told Blair he needed to run to the men's room. Blair smiled as he left, and closed his weary eyes, settling back on the pillows.

Intern Therese McNaillis was making her rounds. She went to her desk, and typed in one of her patient's names. Blair Sandburg.

Therese was very new, and still a little uncertain of herself. She knew it was time for Mr. Sandburg to be given his pain meds, but she couldn't remember the dosage. She brought up his screen, and found the information she was looking for, then turned to collect the pills from the pharmacy closet.

Behind her, silently, the screen changed almost imperceptibly. The dosage beside Blair's name changed from ten milligrams to one hundred milligrams, then entire screen doing a brief reshuffling as the new data appeared.

Therese re-emerged, pills in hand. She glanced at her screen as she passed, and did a double take. One hundred! She looked down at the pills in her hand. One hundred. Not ten, one hundred. How could she have missed that? With a sigh, she turned and went back into the closet for more of the little red pills.

"Hi sweetheart!"

Blair perked up at the cheery voice, and smiled at Therese. The young intern was extremely pretty and friendly, and Blair had taken an instant liking to her. He was always on the lookout for a new face when he came to the hospital, since he was on a first-name basis with most of the employees here.

"Hello, Therese," he said happily, stretching. "Got my goodies?"

"What do you think, curly?" the intern replied with a smile, jiggling the cup of pills.

"I think those are gonna be just what the doctor ordered," Blair replied. "My head has been playing a Sousa march all morning."

Therese laughed as she drew a cup of water for Blair, then dumped the pills into his hand. "Well," she said, "Once you take these, you won't give a damn about anything for a while."

"Great," Blair said. He dumped the pills into his mouth and tossed his head back, swallowing them down with a gulp of water.

Therese watched the sweet faced young man snuggle down into the bed. She pulled the sheets up to his chin, and tenderly brushed a hand across his brow as the big blue eyes fluttered closed.

Cute, she thought, turning to tend to the room. Definitely cute.

Out in the corridor, Blair's doctor, Dr. Mendal, was just retrieving a pencil from Therese's desk. He glanced absently at the intern's computer screen as he snagged what he needed. He was turning away when the dosage next to Sandburg name jumped out at him. Eyes widening in horror, he stared at the number for a moment before charging down the corridor toward Sandburg's room.

Jim had just returned, and was settling into the chair beside his sleeping Guide. He smiled at the young intern, who was busily tidying the room. The woman had a crush on his partner, no doubt about it.

Pounding footsteps outside the hall got both Jim and Therese's attentions. They looked up as Blair's doctor came skidding into the room, eyes wild, pale faced.

"Doctor!" Therese said, coming to his side. "Dr. Mendal, what is it?" She jumped a little as the doctor grabbed her arms.

"How much Xantholin did you give him?" he demanded.

"Wha... one hundred milligrams, sir. Just like your instructions said." She yelped as the doctor surged away from her to Blair's bedside.

Jim jumped to his feet as the doctor began to fuss over Blair, checking his vitals.

"Mr. Sandburg," the doctor said sharply, slapping at the young man's face. "Mr. Sandburg, I need you to wake up, please." There was no response from the limp figure in he bed.

"Doc, what's the matter?" Jim asked, heart beginning to pound as the doctor grew more determined his attempts to rouse Blair.

"He's been overdosed!" Mendal gasped. He grabbed Blair's arm and pulled him into a sitting position. "Help me!"

Jim rushed to grab Blair's other arm, alarmed to hear his heart growing sluggish, slowing down. Together, he and the doctor got Blair to his feet. Mendal grabbed the cup off the table and dashed what was left of the cold water in Blair's face, causing the young man to wake with a spluttering gasp. His eyes opened, then began to roll back as his legs started to collapse.

"Keep him awake!" Mendal shouted as he and Jim dragged the young man into the tiny bathroom.

Ellison did what he was told. He pinched the soft skin on the underside of Blair's arm, using the pain to keep his Guide conscious. Then he watched with mild nausea as the doctor stuck two fingers down Blair's throat.

Blair gagged against the fingers, stomach heaving. He was only barely conscious as he was held over the toilet bowl and made to empty his stomach.

Mendal forced Blair to vomit, then let him rest a moment before ramming his fingers again down the young man's throat. Another surge of bile erupted from the young man's mouth, and the doctor leaned down to inspect the contents of the toilet bowl.

Jim watched breathlessly, still not sure of what had happened. He followed the doctor's instructions to hold Blair up, and watched Mendal studying the contents of Blair's stomach. He must have seen what he was looking for, because he gave a relieved sigh and sagged against the wall.

"It's all right," he said, as Jim asked him what was wrong. "Here, get him back to bed." He helped Jim gather Blair's limp form up his arms, and followed him out of the bathroom.

Jim gently eased Blair down onto the hospital bed, watching as the doctor crossed and began to harshly question Therese, who was now white faced and crying. Jim heard her insist over and over that the computer had said 100 milligrams when she called it up. The doctor countered that he had set the dosage himself, and that he knew he'd prescribed ten milligrams.

"I don't understand it," Mendal said, laying a comforting hand on the intern's arm. "I'm sorry I shouted at you, it's not your fault, dear," he said soothingly as Therese continued to sob. He turned to Jim.

"Doc, what's going on?" Jim asked from Blair's bedside.

"Well, " the doctor said, running a hand through his silvering hair. "Somehow that computer file for Mr. Sandburg seems to have developed a small, but potentially deadly glitch. Instead of indicating ten milligrams of pain killer, which is what I prescribed, it was showing one hundred." He paused before adding quietly, "Which is more than enough to kill someone of Blair's size."

Jim felt his legs go weak, and quickly sat down. He turned and laid a hand on Blair's forehead, relieved to feel the young man's pulse rising to normal speed again. He assured himself that Blair was safe before following the doctor out of the room and down the hall.

"Here," Dr. Mendal said, pointing as he and Jim approached the desk. He touched a fingertip to the computer screen, indicating the dosage beside Blair's name. "One hundred milligrams." The doctor frowned.

"I don't understand it, detective. It should have been impossible for that dosage to read one hundred; the program only allows two-digit numbers to be entered in the dosage column."

Jim just nodded, studying the little green number. He was about to reply to Mendal, when something caught his eye. He stared, and his mouth slowly dropped open.

At the very bottom of the screen, in tiny letters was a message: "IT'S NOT OVER YET, DETECTIVE."

"Oh my God. He's alive," Jim breathed.

THE END 


End file.
